


I Want to Be (Beneath Your Skin)

by lavenderlotion



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Beta Derek Hale, Clubbing, Come Marking, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Face-Fucking, Facials, Grinding, M/M, Making Out, Manhandling, Polyamory, Post-Coital Cuddling, Rimming, Rough Sex, Scarred Peter Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski Wears Makeup, Tattooed Derek Hale, Tattooed Peter Hale, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 22:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17252939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlotion/pseuds/lavenderlotion
Summary: “They’re watching you again,” Lydia’s breath was a warm whisper against Stiles’ ear, her lips brushing the sensitive skin and making him shiver.The entire club smelt like magic and sweat and sex, an intoxicating mixture that Stiles had gladly lost himself in. He let his eyes drop closed, swaying his hips back and forth and asked, “Who are?”“The wolves,” Lydia told him.





	I Want to Be (Beneath Your Skin)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Areiton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/gifts).



> A few months ago, Areiton talked about tattooed Deter and makeup-wearing Stiles. Here it is!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who I forced to read this, and thank you for all the advice and feedback you gave me. Beta'd by the lovely [Delightful_I_Am](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delightful_I_Am) and the amazing [AuguriesofInnocence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuguriesofInnocence)!

“They’re watching you again,” Lydia’s breath was a warm whisper against Stiles’ ear, her lips brushing the sensitive skin and making him shiver. He wrapped an arm around her waist to haul their bodies closer together, grinding forward. 

His dick was half hard, had been since they started dancing—minutes ago or hours ago, he had no idea—and she was warm and compact, pressed against him. Her heels were tall enough that they were the same height, and he turned his head to the side, bussing her cheek as he breathed her in.

The entire club smelt like magic and sweat and sex, an intoxicating mixture that Stiles gladly lost himself in. He let his eyes drop closed, swaying his hips back and forth and asked, “Who are?”

“The wolves,” Lydia told him. Her eyes darkened, her pupils expanding until her iris was nothing but a glossy black expanse. When she flipped her hair over her shoulder, they faded back to green, and her smile turned sharp. “Oh, they’re  _ Hales _ .”

Stiles laughed, throwing his head back as the bass beat through his body. It wasn’t a tune he recognized, though that didn’t surprise him. It was loud and heavy, the atmosphere of the club heady. Another body stepped up behind him, as small as Lydia but warmer, and Stiles let Kira take his place. 

He met her eyes for a moment, long enough for them to flash with electricity, before turning towards the bar. Stiles flitted his way through the crowd, stopping here and there to share a dance with anyone who caught his eye, although he made sure not to lose sight of the bar or the two men he was making his way towards. 

The two men— _ Hales _ , apparently—were standing at the bar, the same position they had been in when Stiles first noticed them upon his entry to the club. They were both staring at Stiles with an intensity that left him breathless, both covered in black ink—but that was where the similarities ended.

The younger one had hair as black as his shirt, his beard full, groomed, and just as dark. His arms stretched out his shirt, pulling around his biceps as his Henley strained over his chest. The older one had a trimmed goatee framing a smirk that pulled at scarred skin, hair cropped shorter and styled neater than that of his younger companion. 

They were both watching him, had been watching him the whole night. Stiles was used to being watched by men, and he had long since learned what looks to be wary of. These were looks of interest, looks that made Stiles’ stomach feel warm as he got closer to where they were standing at the bar. 

By the time Stiles strode up to them, hips swaying with practiced ease, apprehension was hot throughout his body. He made  space for himself between them, angling his body towards the younger of the two as he rested against the bar. Stiles knew what he looked like, and he blinked up at the taller man from under his heavy lashes.

“Buy me a drink?” he said, not bothering to speak above a soft murmur. The man’s eyes flashed a brilliant, beautiful blue and Stiles felt himself sway forward, drawn in by the power his magic could taste. 

“And what would you like, sweetheart?” Stiles shuddered as the other man spoke next to his ear, close enough that Stiles could feel the heat emanating from his body. He tilted his head to the side, knowing exactly how it stretched out the long line of his neck, and kept eye contact with the blue-eyed wolf. 

“Surprise me,” Stiles breathed out, smiling sweetly at the wolf in front of him. He hadn’t said anything, though Stiles wasn’t bothered, not with the way his nostrils were flaring as his eyes glowed in the dim lighting. 

The music was quieter by the bar, and Stiles found it easier to think without the haze of the dance floor around him. He studied the man in front of him, noting the tattoos covering his arms and the hard, almost angry set to his shoulders; he was tense but the look on his face screamed interest, and Stiles couldn’t look away. 

A drink was placed on the table beside him and Stiles picked it up slowly, raising it to his lips as he watched the blue-eyed wolf. “Care to dance?” he asked, snagging the straw with his tongue and hollowing his cheeks as he sucked down a sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly, and Stiles felt the heat travel down his throat as the man’s eyes dropped to his neck. 

“I don’t dance,” the man said, and his voice was just as deep as Stiles had hoped. He pouted, sticking out his glossed bottom lip as he leaned back into the man behind him.

He tilted his head back, showing off his throat further, and asked, “Do you?”

An arm wrapped around his waist, a large hand settling over his bare stomach. Stiles shivered as claws pricked his belly, a groan slipping past his lips before he could bite down on it. The man’s chin brushed the skin of his shoulder, not covered by the cropped, low-cut shirt he had on. 

“What brings you to a place like this?” 

“Just having fun,” Stiles said, taking another sip of his drink without breaking eye contact with the taller wolf, “and that didn’t answer my question.”

“Neither of us likes to dance,” the man behind him said, pulling Stiles tighter against him as he continued to run his jaw along Stiles’ shoulder and throat. Stiles said nothing, not at all minding that he was being intimately covered in the stranger’s scent. 

“What do you like to do?” Stiles asked, his breath getting caught up in his throat as the man in front of him suddenly stepped closer, bracketing Stiles in between two warm bodies. All he could smell was their spicy-sweet scent and all he could feel was their warm heat as it seeped into his bones.

“We like to share,” the beta said, and Stiles threw his head back with a laugh. He touched, finally, settling his hand on the man’s wide expanse of chest, hooking his fingers into the holes between the buttons of his Henley. 

“I’m Stiles,” he offered, letting his eyes drop closed as the man in front of him wrapped an arm around his free side, fingers slipping between Stiles’ back and the other man’s stomach.

The man in front of him rumbled “Derek” at the same time the man behind him whispered “Peter” into his ear, and Stiles moaned, his hips rocking forward as his cock twitched in his skinny jeans. 

“Oh, don’t you just smell lovely,” Peter purred as Derek let out a deep, rumbling growl that reverberated through Stiles’ entire body. 

“ _ Jesus _ ,” Stiles ground out between clenched teeth, feeling completely overwhelmed, pressed between the two warm bodies. He dropped his eyes, wrapping his hand around Peter’s thick forearm, his fingers pale next to the stark black of the tattoos he was covered in.

“Would you like to come home with us, Stiles?” Peter asked, his voice velvet smooth, lips brushing the skin of Stiles’ throat. Stiles’ grip tightened, fingers flexing as Derek seemed to get even closer. He was caged in, trapped between them, and he felt nothing but excited arousal.

His  _ “yes” _ was lost in Derek’s mouth when the wolf kissed him, beard scratching against Stiles’ chin. Stiles moaned, opening his mouth easily as Derek licked inside. He brought the hand that had still been tucked into his shirt up to grip Derek’s arm, trying to keep himself steady even as he let Peter hold up more of his weight as Derek moved closer. 

Their teeth met, then their tongues, and Stiles gave for all his worth, kissing back as hard as he was being kissed. He captured Derek’s top lip between his teeth, biting into the plush flesh and tugging. Derek growled and still Stiles pushed forward, tangling his fingers into Derek’s hair to hold him in place when he finally gave in. 

“We need to go,” Peter said, his voice all growl, and even though he wasn’t a wolf Stiles felt the power in his voice, the alpha command washing over him even though it had no effect. Stiles shuddered, goosebumps erupting across his entire body, and he pulled back with one last suck to Derek’s bottom lip.

“Take me home, Alpha,” Stiles said, knowing the title was a gamble. Peter’s hold on him tightened before he stepped back, leaving Stiles feeling bereft without the contact. 

Derek’s eyes were glowing when Stiles looked up at him, but the man was staring over his shoulder. He turned to find Peter watching them both with red eyes. They glowed brightly, a deep, bloodied burgundy that Stiles found himself getting lost in. Peter reached for him and Stiles took his hand easily, falling into step as soon as Peter started to walk towards the exit.

* * *

He denied the ride they offered him, opting to drive himself. He followed Peter’s sporty little car in his jeep, shooting a text to Lydia and Kira with his location once he had parked in their driveway. Stiles checked his reflection in the rearview mirror, dabbing on a touch of lip gloss that had been lost in Derek’s mouth.

The two men were waiting for him at the front door, and Stiles made his way up the steps slowly. His cock was pressing against the zipper of his too-tight jeans, but he was in no rush. Derek pulled him into a kiss as soon as Stiles was close enough, looping one large arm around Stiles’ waist and pulling him against his chest. His other hand grabbed Stiles’ hip tight enough to bruise and Stiles retaliated by biting into his bottom lip, grinning when Derek pulled away with a growl. 

“You  gonna invite me in, big guy?” Stiles asked, pressing a leg between Derek’s thighs, leaning up for another kiss when he moaned. 

“Inside,” Peter said sharply, and Stiles let Derek tug him into the house. 

The front foyer was large, but Stiles barely spared it a thought. Peter was suddenly against his  back, once again nosing along his throat. Now, though, he let his lips skim over skin; he dragged his tongue in a long, broad sweep up Stiles’ throat, nipping his earlobe and making Stiles shiver.

“Would you like something to drink, darling?” Peter asked, his voice a soft rumble in Stiles’ ear.

He shook his head, his lips pulling up into a slow smile. “Honestly, I’d rather you just take me to bed.”

Peter barked out a surprised sounding laugh before stepped back, rounding Stiles and leaning in to grab him under his thighs, lifting him up effortlessly. Stiles wrapped his legs around Peter’s waist and grabbed onto his shoulders for purchase, gasping for breath as his heart skyrocketed with excitement. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles panted, staring down at Peter as his  cock twitched in his pants; the show of strength and the easy manhandling pushing a bead of  precome out of his dick and making him shiver.

“I would never keep a pretty thing like you waiting,” Peter growled, his voice more wolf than man as his eyes burned red. 

“Jesus Christ, Alpha,” Stiles murmured, leaning down for a kiss that Peter met him for, already starting to walk with Stiles in his arms. 

They kissed the entire way up the stairs. Stiles rolled his hips into Peter’s stomach with practiced ease. Peter was panting into his mouth, claws tickling Stiles’ inner thighs where Peter was holding him up. He pulled back for a breath, and Peter was staring up at him with wide, hungry eyes that Stiles didn’t want to look away from. 

Stiles let out a breathless laugh when Peter tossed him onto the bed but it dissolved into a moan quickly enough. Derek followed him down, pressing him into the mattress with his bulk. He was just as hard as Stiles was and the slide of their erections had Stiles moaning loudly, pushing into the friction.

He wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist to hold him in place, rolling his hips upwards. Stiles had no idea who he liked kissing better, but Derek definitely kissed sloppier. He sucked at Stiles’ mouth, licking inside seemingly without technique. It was good, so good, and it was even better when Derek began to trail the same, sloppy kisses down his jaw and neck.

“Nephew,  _ sharing _ , remember?” Peter said, a sharpness to his voice that Stiles hadn’t heard before. Derek whined, but he kept going, latching onto Stiles’ neck and biting down, pulling up a bruise. Stiles cock twitched painfully, his briefs getting wet as  precome pumped out of him. 

“ _ Pup _ ,” Peter snapped, and this time Stiles felt the power in the word. Derek moved off of him with another desperate noise, rolling off Stiles and onto his back. Their legs were still tangled together and Stiles let out an upset noise at the loss, reaching for Derek as his eyes fluttered open. 

“Oh, holy fuck,” Stiles moaned, staring at Peter’s torso, eyes sliding up to his chest. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, and he was covered in tattoos, more black ink than skin. Stiles couldn’t stop looking, and he sat up so he could see better. 

He stared, caught up in the way the ink laid differently on his scarred skin, raised with the texture beneath it. Stiles wanted to touch, wanted to  _ taste _ , and he let out a helpless noise when Peter pulled off his jeans, leaving him in nothing but a tight pair of briefs. His thighs were just as heavily inked as the rest of him, and Stiles could hardly catch his breath. 

“C’mere,” Stiles moaned, raising himself on his elbows as he spread his thighs in invitation. When Peter only chuckled, Stiles blew out a frustrated huff of air through his nose, wrapping a thin tendril of magic around Peter and tugging him a step forward. 

Peter laughed again, sounding delighted, and he stalked forward only to stop at the edge of the bed. Stiles rose to his knees, his erection painfully tight inside his jeans but he didn’t care. Peter’s stomach was warm under Stiles’ fingers, hard muscle under a softer layer of skin. He flattened out his palms, feeling the contrast as he dragged his hands up his sides.

“Is this okay?” Stiles asked, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, breathing heavily through his nose.

Peter nodded, though he was quiet for a moment. He took a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists at his sides before he said, “The right side is sensitive.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

Peter’s eyes flashed red, his top lip pulling back in a snarl. “Don’t you dare.”

Stiles laughed, moving forward so he could feel the skin with his lips. He mouthed along Peter’s chest, going from the left to the right, moaning as the texture changed under his tongue. Peter’s skin was rough, so,  _ so _ warm, and Stiles trailed his hands around his sides to pull him even closer. He caught Peter’s nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the small bud.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” Peter slurred, his hips bucking forward hard enough that Stiles lost his suction. He chuckled, bringing his hand up to press against the hard line of Peter’s dick. It was straining against his underwear, pulsing and hot through the fabric and Stiles used his thumb to rub circles into the head.

The bed shifted behind him and then Derek was there, plastering himself to Stiles’ back and leaning over his shoulder to get at Peter. He watched, tongue wetting his bottom lip, as they made out, a harsh clash of tongues and teeth. Stiles shifted, being pushed closer to Peter by Derek’s bulk. 

Stiles moaned, pushing his hips back to press closer to Derek’s warmth. He was hard against Stiles’ ass, his hands tight where they dug into Stiles’ hips. Stiles ducked his head forward, resting his forehead against Peter’s shoulder and placing lazy, open-mouthed kisses to the skin he could reach. He could still hear them making out above him but Stiles was in no rush, his arousal calming to a low, simmering burn under his skin. 

Derek trailed his hands up Stiles’ sides and under his shirt, fingers pressed harshly against his skin. Stiles moaned when Derek rubbed over his nipples, arching his back to push his ass firmer against the hard line of Derek’s cock, gyrating his hips back and then forward into Peter’s body. He was so warm, their heat seeping under his skin as they pressed even closer. 

Derek sat  back, though he didn’t let go of Stiles and instead pulled Stiles with him into his lap. Stiles let out a delighted gasp when Derek’s fingers skirted over his nipples again, thumbs rough as he rubbed the sensitive skin. 

“Take his shirt off, Pup,” Peter said, words rumbling out of his chest. Stiles lifted his arm even though the request wasn’t directed at him, and Derek slowly lifted his shirt up. “Now yours.” Derek shifted behind him, pulling away for a moment before he was back, arms wrapping around Stiles’ waist to pull him close. When Stiles sat back Derek didn’t have a shirt on and his back pressed against Derek’s bare chest, feeling even warmer when there was nothing between them.

“That is gorgeous,” Peter said, his eyes flashing red when Derek bit into Stiles’ neck. He threw his head back, giving Derek more room to work with as Peter watched them with hungry eyes. Stiles stared right back, sliding his own hands up his sides to play with his nipples, licking over his bottom lip as Peter watched.

Peter growled before he pulled down his underwear, tugging the dark fabric away from his waist and down over his cock before letting it drop to the floor. “I’m going to  _ die _ ,” Stiles moaned, grabbing hold of Derek’s wrists in an attempt to keep himself steady. Peter’s cock was gorgeous, flushed red where the head was peeking out from under his foreskin, beaded with  precome that was dripping down its side. 

“Can I take your pants off, sweetheart?” Peter asked, and the question made him feel warm even as he nodded his head quickly. 

Stiles spread his legs out in front of him while Peter finally climbed onto the bed, kneeling between Stiles’ calves. Peter’s fingers worked quickly at his zipper and Stiles let out a breathless laugh when Peter tugged only for nothing to happen.

“They’re  _ really _ tight,” Stiles said, shimmying his hips to try to help, pulling a groan from Derek as his hips rubbed against the wolf’s dick. Peter pulled his pants off patiently and Stiles grinned when he was finally naked, all long lines of pale, smooth skin.

“Lie back for me, sweetheart,” Peter told him and before Stiles could move, Derek was leaning backwards, bringing Stiles with him until he was laid out on the bed. 

Stiles made a noise, upset when Derek moved away. He reached out a hand, gripping Derek’s knee to keep him close. He wasn’t sure why he suddenly felt so distressed, but he missed Derek’s warm heat against his back. Derek leaned in, hovering over Stiles for a breath before their lips touched in a surprisingly soft kiss, no heat or passion, just the gentle slide of their closed mouths.

“Just getting undressed,” Derek mumbled against his lips, his voice even deeper than it had been at the bar. Stiles groaned as he watched, staring at Derek’s chest and getting hopelessly distracted, eyes following the trail of dark, spiralling hair that covered his chest and trailed down his stomach. 

Derek’s cock, somehow, was even bigger than Peter’s. It slapped up against his stomach, so hard that the slap of skin was audible, and a groan slipped out of Stiles’ mouth at the thought of the both of them and all the things they could do together. 

“Oh this is going to be amazing,” Stiles moaned, hands skipping down his belly and over the tops of his thighs, hips thrusting into the air in search of friction he knew he wouldn't find. 

“Oh god,” Derek said quietly, and his voice sounded completely wrecked. Stiles smiled as he wrapped a hand around his dick, slowly stroking himself from root to top, rolling his hips into it and letting the pleasure wash over him. 

Suddenly, Peter’s hands were on him, rough palms dragging up his thighs. His fingers fluttered into the crease of his thighs, ghosting over the skin surrounding his dick, and then trailing up his stomach as he kept getting closer. Stiles arched into the hands touching him, grabbing Peter’s wrists just to give himself something to hold on to. 

“Get on your stomach, darling,” Peter told him, his eyes bleeding red. While the wash of alpha power didn’t affect him, the strength in the command made his cock twitch, and he followed it easily.

Stiles rolled over, getting his knees underneath him so he could raise his hips and push his ass out. He knew just what he was doing, just how he was  _ presenting _ , and Peter let out a loud moan. Stiles felt him move closer, and he smiled when wide hands palmed his ass, squeezing and kneading the fat. He pillowed his head in his arms, making sure he could see Derek from where his shoulders were pressed into the mattress. 

Peter nipped his ass cheek, teeth digging into plush skin, and Stiles’ next breath shuddered out of him when Peter began to suck a mark into his skin. He trailed his lips downward, sucking up a bruise where Stiles’ ass met his thigh, causing Stiles to buck forward into nothing. He let out a low, impatient noise and pushed his hips back.

“ _ Peter _ ,” Stiles snapped, words muffled where his face was pressed into the mattress. Peter laughed, the sound echoing through Stiles’ body.

Peter slapped his ass, a sharp sting, and then he was moving, lips and teeth catching on skin as he mouthed his way to the centre of Stiles’ ass. Hands pulled him apart, spreading him open, and Peter’s tongue struck out, ripping a guttural noise from Stiles. His facial hair rubbed against his rim in a way that made him feel hypersensitive, the brush of his tongue that much better because of the sharp sting it was soothing. 

Stiles closed his eyes, letting the pleasure wash over him. Peter was eating him out like a champ, the room filled with wet, slurping noises and their joint moaning. He did his best to keep himself relaxed, making it easier for Peter to thrust his tongue deeper, wiggling it until it was  _ inside _ , warm and wet and feeling so good. 

“Der—” Stiles moaned, reaching out and needing  _ something _ . Thankfully Derek was there, slipping their fingers together in time for Stiles to squeeze down when Peter nipped at his rim. 

Derek came closer, carding a hand through Stiles’ hair before tangling his fingers into the strands. He didn’t pull, but he held Stiles there as Peter worked a finger into him, nothing but saliva easing the way. Stiles was wet enough, and Peter kept sucking on his rim and working him over with his tongue even as he worked a second finger alongside the first, scissoring them open and twisting his wrist.

Stiles groaned, enjoying the subtle sting of the stretch. Prep was one of his favourite parts of sex, and Peter was taking his time. He teased at Stiles’ rim, pulling and prodding at the sensitive skin with both his fingers and his tongue. He pulled his fingers out and before Stiles could even take a breath, he was rubbing his chin against Stiles’ puffy hole. Stiles cried out, his eyes stinging with over stimulation.

Finally, Peter pulled away, his thumb passing over Stiles’ rim one last time, the edge of his nail catching and making Stiles cry out—half sob and half broken moan.

“Pup, pass me the lube?” Peter asked, and Derek leant down and pressed a kiss to Stiles’ forehead before he moved away. 

Stiles floated on sensation. His brain felt foggy as Peter kept going, getting him loose and wet. It was nice, letting himself do nothing but feel. Stiles was making small, punched out noises every time Peter pressed against his prostate, fingers unrelenting as Peter fucked him with his hand. It was all so much, so good, and Stiles rolled his hips back to meet Peter’s fingers. 

“Are you ready, darling?” Peter asked, and Stiles nodded, humming an affirmative. 

He pulled himself out from his own head, looking up at Derek only to find the man watching him intently. It was the same sharp gaze that had been directed at him in the bar, and a slow smile curled Stiles’ lips up. Stiles lifted himself onto his elbows, anticipation warming his stomach. 

“Der,” Stiles moaned, looking up at him and licking his bottom lip, “c’mere.”

Derek growled, his eyes flashing blue as he  knee -walked over. He settled at the top of the bed, spreading his legs out so Stiles could make himself comfortable between his legs. He ran his hands up the hairy, inked skin of his thighs, the muscle tensing underneath his hands. Peter’s fingers left his ass and Stiles dropped his head forward, resting his forehead against Derek’s thigh.

“Take a breath, sweetheart,” Peter told him, his voice audibly slurred around fangs. 

Stiles did as asked, breathing in and forcing his body to relax. Derek pet his hair, fingers scratching over his scalp and a shiver ran down his spine even as all his remaining tension leaked out of him. Peter’s cock was thick when it pressed into him, opening him up and forcing itself into Stiles’ body slowly. Peter ran his hands up and down his back; long, soothing strokes of his palm. 

When he finally bottomed out, Stiles was breathing heavily, his heart racing as sweat beaded his brow. He couldn’t be bothered that his makeup would get smudged, not when Peter was filling him so wholly, carving out room for himself in Stiles’ body. His hands were tipped with claws when they grabbed his hips, and Stiles moaned, pushing his hips backwards.

Peter’s grip went tight before he pulled back, slowly fucking into Stiles. He wasn't going to complain about the pace, not when the stretch still burned. Peter’s cock dragged along inside him, thick and heavy and overwhelming. 

“ _ Fuck _ , baby,” Peter moaned, his hips rolling forward every time he bottomed out, reaching impossibly deep and lighting Stiles up. 

He took a deep breath as Peter sped up, the burn trailing away and leaving nothing but pleasure, and all he could smell was Derek’s musk. He turned his head to get more, leaning forward until his face was pressed against Derek’s balls. Derek groaned, and Stiles let his tongue slip out, tasting the sweaty skin. 

“Are you going to fuck his pretty mouth, Pup?” Peter asked from behind them, his pace speeding up when Stiles nodded eagerly. 

“Please, Der,  _ please _ ?” Stiles begged, voice wrecked. Peter hit his prostate and he yelped, his thighs shaking.

The hand that had been pushing through his hair tightened, gripping the strands tight enough that it burned. Derek raised Stiles’ head, his other hand cradling Stiles’ jaw in a gentle juxtaposition, and he guided him forward. Stiles went eagerly, opening his mouth so Derek’s dick could rest against his tongue. 

He pushed forward, licking up the  precome the head was wet with, digging his tongue underneath foreskin to get more. After a moment Derek pulled him down, forcing Stiles lower until he gagged, and only then letting him back up long enough to take a breath before he was doing it again. His lips were stretched wide, tongue pressing up against the underside of Derek’s cock as he breathed through his nose and did his best to relax his throat. 

Derek was holding his head securely, moving his mouth, and Peter was fucking into him at a quick, brutal pace. It was all so much that he couldn't even breathe, and he let himself get used, losing himself in the sensation of his body being taken over. Derek’s hands were gripping his hair tightly, his scalp burning as badly as his throat as Derek fucked up into his mouth.

Peter sped up, fucking Stiles brutally, so hard that it hurt. His closed his eyes, unable to do anything other than hear and feel. He was overwhelmed, his cock throbbing uselessly, so hard that it was painful. He couldn't focus on anything, letting Peter and Derek take what they needed, holding him and moving him as they wanted. 

Stiles lost time, drifting as he got fucked at both ends. He was nothing but sensation, the stretch of his lips and the burn in his ass. Every time Peter pushed in, he hit Stiles’ prostate, lighting him up.  All Stiles could smell and taste was Derek, salty musk on his tongue and in his nose. 

Peter came with a roar, fucking in so hard that Stiles was gagged on Derek’s dick. His thighs shook, his heart rate speeding  up  until he was able to pull back and take a breath, resting his head against Derek’s stomach. Peter continued to fuck into Stiles slowly, spilling hot inside him. The feeling made his cock twitch painfully, knowing how deeply Peter was marking him. 

Finally, Peter pulled out, but he didn’t waste any time before he was filling Stiles with his fingers. He didn’t stop, and Derek made a noise right before Peter’s tongue was at his hole again, fucking into his used ass and sucking at his rim. Stiles groaned, the feeling of Peter sucking his own come out of him making him gag at the over stimulation; his body overwhelmed with a sensation he had never felt before. 

Suddenly Derek was pulling his hair again, angling Stiles’ head, and then he was coming, growling as he pushed his hips forward and spraying all over Stiles’ face. He kept his eyes closed, a moan ripping from his throat as Derek painted his face with his release. The man wiped his eyes clean, feeding his thumbs back to Stiles who sucked them in eagerly. 

As he was sucking Derek’s come into his mouth, Peter slipped what had to be three fingers back into his ass, and pressed against his prostate, pushing Stiles over the edge. He shook apart, coming and coming and  _ coming, _ until his entire body gave out. He fell into Derek, the man guiding him forward so that he was lying on Derek’s chest, head pillowed on a  pec . 

His face was still covered in come but he didn’t care, rubbing his forehead in the warm skin he was pressed against. His body was still shaking, shivers wracking his frame as his cock twitched uselessly. Peter finally slipped his fingers out, pressing a noisy kiss to his hole that had Stiles giggling deliriously. 

“Are you alright, sweetheart?” Peter asked, his voice laced with what Stiles thought might be  concern . 

Stiles made a noise, something stupid but happy, and snuggled into Derek. There was no way he was going to be moving anytime soon, not when he couldn't feel his entire body. Stiles was still breathing heavily, every breath rattling through his chest. He tried to get closer to Derek, soaking up his warmth even though he was boneless atop him. 

He had never come so hard before, and he still felt overwhelmed. Derek was breathing heavily as well, his chest rising and falling under Stiles’ cheek. Come was drying on his face and between his ass, but Stiles felt too fucked out to even care. He laid there quietly, waiting for his body to even out.

Neither men said anything, though after a few minutes he heard Peter get up and walk away, his footsteps soft. Derek was running a hand up and down his back in gentle strokes, and it was comforting. His ass was sore; he could feel all the bruises that had to be littering his hips, and the roughness was catching up to him, but the ache was pleasant, and he enjoyed how it mixed with his afterglow. 

Stiles had no idea how long they laid there for, though eventually, Stiles shifted so he was on the bed but still curled into Derek’s side. He must have dozed off, because he woke up to Peter walking back into the room, a door he hadn’t noticed earlier creaking open. Peter walked over to them, as gorgeous as he had been earlier, with a wet cloth in hand. 

He wiped Derek’s cock first, mopping up Stiles’ saliva. Peter ran the cloth up Derek’s belly and over his chest, wiping away the come that Stiles had smeared behind. He climbed onto the bed, knees pressing against Derek’s side, and he gently wiped Stiles’ face. Stiles smiled softly, tilting his head so Peter could clean off Derek’s dried release. 

Once his face was clean Peter got back up, rounding the bed and wiping Stiles’ cock and ass, slipping a thumb in and letting out a soft chuckle when Stiles groaned. He tried to push his ass into the contact, enjoying the feeling even of it even though it all felt like too much. Peter hushed him, making a soft noise before he walked back to the en-suite. 

Stiles let his eyes slip closed, even as he fought against the pull of sleep. He told himself he would get up in a  minute, once his body remembered how to move. Peter came back empty-handed, sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching over the place a hand on Stiles’ hip. When he looked, he found Peter fitting his fingertips to matching bruises. 

“Would you like to spend the night?” Peter asked, and Stiles’ heart kicked back up.

“You don’t mind?” Stiles asked, and Derek made a pleased, rumbling noise before tightening his hold around Stiles’ waist, turning his head and pressing his nose into Stiles’ hair. Well, that seemed like answer enough. 

“If you  lemme fall asleep here, I’m  gonna get makeup all over,” Stiles mumbled into Derek’s chest, lips brushing over the thick covering of hair.

“That’s alright,” Peter said, rubbing small circles into Stiles’ hip with his thumb. The contact helped him feel grounded, evening out the erratic beat of his heart. “Would you like to shower before going to sleep, darling?”

The pet name, now that the sex was over and done with and they were all sated, filled him with warmth. Derek pulled him tighter against his chest, curling towards him. 

“Can you take my lashes?” Stiles asked, reaching up to peel them off and handing them to Peter before the man had answered. He placed them into Peter’s hand, watching with humour as the man furrowed his brow as he stared at them. 

“I don’t know what these are,” Peter said blankly, and Stiles rolled over on the bed so Derek was spooning him and he could face Peter.

“They’re fake eyelashes,” Stiles said, smiling softly when Derek curled tighter behind him, his hand warm where it was resting on Stiles’ stomach.

“Okay. And you...put them on your eye?”

“Yep, with lash glue,” Stiles explained, letting out a laugh when Peter raised both of his brows. 

“Alright...” Peter said, reaching to place them on the table beside the bed. He stood, giving Stiles and Derek a long look before he sighed, walking over to a closet. “You’ll have to show me, sometime,” Peter said, and it took Stiles a moment to realize he was talking about the fake lashes. He blushed, his face warming at the thought of having something more with these two men than just the one night. 

Peter turned, another comforter in his hand. Derek was already breathing heavily against the back of Stiles’ neck, and he yawned, his exhaustion catching up with him. Peter draped the blanket over them, crawling under and lying on his back, close enough that Stiles could use his bicep as a pillow. 

“Goodnight, darling,” Peter told him, his voice a deep, soft rumble that made Stiles smile. 

“Goodnight, Alpha,” Stiles replied, the word slipping out easily. He let his eyes fall closed, but not before he caught the smile on Peter’s face. 

**Author's Note:**

> First, Happy New Year! <3
> 
> This is my first fic of 2019, and was written for [Poly Shipping Day](http://polyshippingday.tumblr.com/), which is the first of every month and something I plan on doing all year (I already have February's fic written!). I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> comments and kudos are much appreciated!  
> [my dreamwidth](https://lavenderlotion.dreamwidth.org/), [my tumblr](https://lavender-lotion.tumblr.com/) and [my pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/lavenderlotion)


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